


Lullaby - Only the Night Sky Knows

by MasterOfThePen



Category: Wild ARMs 3
Genre: Canon Compliant, Daddy Issues, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterOfThePen/pseuds/MasterOfThePen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more Virginia wanted to remember her father, the more Jet wanted to forget. But a simple song has a way of dredging up painful memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby - Only the Night Sky Knows

It was going to be a cold night again. Luckily, Jet was familiar with the Eastern Continent, and so knew the location of a nearby cave that served as a local Drifter camp. All the essentials and a few amenities were left behind by previous Drifters with the intent that whatever supplies you used, you'd replace with something of equal value for the next set of Drifters to use.

Gallows had gathered together some dry sticks and tumbleweed to use as fuel for a fire. Not wanting to waste the meager box of matches, Virginia tossed a Tinder Crest at the kindling and watched it blaze. Everyone gathered close, holding their palms out to the flames. Shadows danced along the walls as the fire burned brightly.

“Whose turn is it to cook dinner?” Jet asked. Hopefully, it wouldn't be Gallows. Jet swore that he'd never submit himself to the Baskar priest's ethnic curry ever again. He'd rather starve than endure those gut-wrenching stomach cramps.

“It's my turn,” Virginia said. “I was thinking maybe some kind of stew today, how's that sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Gallows said, rummaging through some of the supplies left piled in a corner of the cave. “There's a pot we can use. I'll start boiling the water.”

“I'll help slice vegetables,” Clive said. He pulled a pocket knife from somewhere inside his trench coat and set to work peeling some potatoes.

“I guess I'll start seasoning the meat,” Virgina said. “Jet, why don't you help me with this?”

“Pass,” the white-haired Drifter said, flopping back on his bedroll. “I killed the critter you're eating, so I've done my fair share.”

“What about 'teamwork'?” Gallows said, placing the pot over the fire. “If you don't help out, you don't get to eat!” A wicked grin spread across his face.

Jet sat up, rounding on the Baskar priest. “Whatever! You put me through hell with that ultra-spicy curry! So, you owe me a free meal!”

“How many times do I gotta apologize to ya? Sheesh. You're never gonna let me hear the end of it, are ya?”

“That's enough you two,” Clive said, using the same tone a parent would to chastise an unruly child.

“It's okay, Jet,” Virginia said. “We've got things covered over here. I'll let you know when dinner's ready.” She smiled brightly.

“Hmph.” Jet rolled onto his side and faced the wall, annoyed by that overly cheery smile of hers. He was tired and hungry, and that always made him particularly cranky. His eyes focused on the flickering shadows, and he listened to the sounds of his friends preparing dinner. The spicy aroma of seasonings wafted through the air.

Someone—Virginia, it had to be—was whistling a soft melody. Jet felt his eyelids lower in remembrance. That song. He'd heard it before, but where? It seemed like a very long time ago...

_Strong arms enfolded Jet's tiny body, pulling him close. His cheek pressed against a broad chest; he could hear a heartbeat that was not his own. Soft leather enveloped him, containing the warmth of two bodies. A large hand stroked his hair, comforting and familiar. The smell of saddle soap, sun-dried leather, and daffodils. And a melody... Someone whistling a soft and sad tune, like a lullaby._

Jet eyes fluttered open. He wondered if maybe he had dozed off for a bit.

Gallows' voice echoed softly. “That was a beautiful song, Virginia. I didn't know you could whistle!”

“Daddy used to sing this lullaby to me, a long time ago.” Her voice was low, and a bit sad. “Sometimes, he would whistle it to me, instead.”

“Do you still remember the words?” Clive asked, interested. “I'm not familiar with that particular song.”

“I do, but I...” Her voice hitched. “I don't really feel like singing right now.”

“I see. I'm sorry if I dredged up painful memories.”

“It's all right, Clive. It's not supposed to be a sad song. I just... miss him. That's all.”

 _So, that song my old man used to whistle to me,_  Jet thought. _It was Virginia's lullaby, huh?_  He sighed, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of Werner. _The old man didn't even have the decency to make up a new song just for me. Just recycled the one that had been meant for his daughter._

Virginia. It was always Virginia. Every time his thoughts wandered toward his mentor, they would always loop back to Virginia. Jet wondered how he could have possibly missed the resemblance between father and daughter. The same eyes, the same hair, even the same scent... There was no way he could untangle the two in his mind. Memories of the past were bound up inextricably with the consequences of his present actions.

There was no escape for him, now. In order to find the man Jet once considered a father, he would have to rely on his daughter's guidance. For the time being, anyway. There were still too many questions that needed answers, and only Werner held the key.

“Jet!” Virginia called, breaking the endless loop of his thoughts. “Wake up! Dinner's ready!”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm up.” The boy sat up and rubbed at one eye. His mood hadn't improved at all.

Jet grabbed a bowl of stew and scurried toward the cave entrance, keeping his back to the warmth of the fire and his companions. He wasn't much for socializing, and was content to let them chatter among themselves. He ate sullenly, hardly tasting his food. Bitterness had a way of seeping into all the things that once brought you pleasure. Even good food.

Why'd Virginia have to whistle that stupid song? It seemed the more she tried to remember her father, the more Jet wanted to forget. Because he knew that he'd always be playing second-fiddle to Virginia. He knew, deep down inside, that he had only ever been a replacement child for Werner, who had fostered him out of guilt for abandoning his own daughter. And, in the end, even the replacement had been left behind...

He set his bowl aside and stared up at the patch of night sky that was visible from the cave entrance. It was like a tattered quilt of umbral colors with stars spangled across the darkest hues, and yet they shone all the brighter for it. He tried to pick out a constellation among the chaos, some signpost to guide him in his moment of uncertainty, but he couldn't find one. He knew Werner had taught him the names of the stars once, long ago...

Why? Why did that man feel the need to toss aside the things that depended on him most?

Perhaps only the night sky knows...


End file.
